Desperately Wanting
by berrywarbler
Summary: Staying in Blaine's apartment while he was off in Italy with Kurt shouldn't be a bad thing. But if you add into the fact that Rachel Berry was ridiculously in love with him, it gets a bit complicated. Future!fic. Klaine/Finchel mentioned.
1. I Feel The Earth Move

Rachel regretted accepting Kurt and Blaine's offer almost immediately. Walking around the large apartment, hearing her heels clack against the wooden floor, it was _too _silent-to a point to where it was unnerving.

But this was New York City. All she had to do was open a window and she would hear the Manhattan streets below, and it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Kurt might have been able to find a fabulous job that let him travel, and Blaine had a _trust fund _to keep him going until he figured out what it was he wanted to do with his life, but Rachel was still determined to be a star. It had been 5 years since they graduated high school, a year since she graduated from a small but prestigious theater college, and her dreams were not going to be deterred by a little thing like not having the money to afford living near Broadway.

* * *

Kurt had been the one to offer their apartment to Rachel when she first mentioned the auditions for a new musical coming out, but with nowhere to stay she wasn't sure she could do it.

"Well, I have to go to Italy for a few months-"he whispered the famous designer's name whom he was working for, though in a coffee shop in Lima, Ohio, no one would even be able to tell you who the designer was, much less what their work was, "well, they offered me a great placement in Milan for half a year. Blaine is coming with me, we already talked it over. But we didn't want to just abandon our apartment-or worse, have someone we don't know who could be a disgusting pig mess it up. It's perfect. You can stay there while we're gone."

Rachel bit her lip, thinking it over. Sure, it'd be great to have a place to stay-and for free from the sound of it, but still she was hesitant. She looked at Blaine, and he smiled softly at her. "I think it'd work out well," he agreed, squeezing Kurt's knee like he was squeezing her heart, and she took a deep breath. Blaine could convince her of anything, she was sure of that. It was a blessing and a curse, and at the moment, curse was winning that argument.

"Sure," she breathed out. "That would be fantastic. You guys would really be helping me out."

And that is how Rachel Berry ended up laying on Blaine Andersons bed one Sunday afternoon, while he was flying halfway across the world with his boyfriend-and her best friend-Kurt Hummel.

* * *

"Focus, Berry, where is your head today?" her director yelled at her after she flubbed yet another line.

"Sorry!" she squealed, clearing her throat and looking at her costar. They were due to go on in three weeks, and she couldn't afford to lose her mind until at least after opening weekend. Then her understudy could cover for a couple days.

She glanced at her script, and then threw it on the stage; Chris raised his eyebrows at her. She grinned at him, easing into her character once more, erasing her thoughts of Blaine as she strutted towards Chris-who was no longer Chris really, but now his character, the man she was trying to seduce, fluttering her eyelashes as she started her monologue.

* * *

Some nights she would go out with the rest of the cast, partying in a completely un-Rachel Berry like way. Some nights she would try fabulous new restaurants, go see other musicals (she had seen _Wicked _three times already and had only moved to New York a month ago) or occasionally just wander the streets.

But then there were the nights when she would lay very still on the king sized bed, looking around the pristine bedroom. Most nights she slept in the guest bedroom-it felt awkward sleeping in the same bed she knew Kurt and Blaine had slept in, _fucked in_. Not that she thought about that too much, she preferred to never think about Kurt like that if she could avoid it.

Blaine, however, was a different story. Her mind didn't seem to want to stop thinking about him. In any way.

So some nights, like when it was storming and she felt homesick, she curled into his side of the bed and turned down the lights, letting his faint scent that still lingered on his pillow comfort her while she tried to remember a time when Blaine wasn't the boy she was thinking about constantly.

* * *

Finn was more than a little late to most things. But Rachel never expected to open the door to the apartment and find him sitting on Kurt's couch.

"Rachel?" he asked, seeming confused.

"Finn?" she questioned back, even more confused than he looked. "How did you get in here?"

"The key above the doorway, I know Kurt keeps it there in case he gets locked out." Finn explained, looking sheepish. "What are you doing here? Do you know when Kurt's going to be back?"

Rachel crossed her arms, feeling nervous. Things hadn't ended well between her and Finn, more because they hadn't exactly _ended_. They just kind of…stopped being in each other's life. With Rachel wrapped up in musicals and theater and class, and Finn working hard for the football team at a completely different college, they had fallen apart. And never discussed it the few times they had seen each other since. They hadn't discussed anything really, just fallen into bed over and over only to walk away again. "He's in Milan I believe," she managed to sputter out. Even with her heart and mind wrapped up in her completely unreasonable crush on Blaine, Finn was still her first love, and he still had the ability to make her nervous.

"Why is he in Spain?"

"Italy," she corrected automatically.

"Oh, right, well. Why, and for how long?" he asked, completely unfazed.

"He got offered a job for a few months over there. He and Blaine left about a month and a half ago," she told him, and he nodded.

"Right, I must have missed that email," he said, taking a few steps closer to Rachel. She gulped, looking up at him once he was standing in front of her, close enough to touch. "How've you been?" he asked, lowering his voice as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Fine," she squeaked out.

"You're staying here?" he questioned, and she nodded, trying not to let her body react to Finn's movements.

"Yeah, just looking after the place and stuff," she mumbled, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I've missed you," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. She tried to back away, only to bump into the door.

"Finn, I-I can't," she stuttered out, Blaine flashing across her mind. Finn looked at her, his hand pausing its movement on her arm.

"Why? Do you have a boyfriend?" she shook her head no.

"I just-"

"It's not like we haven't done it before," Finn reasoned.

"Not in Blaine and Kurt's!" she squealed, and he looked at her questioningly.

"Why? You're living here now, and it's not like they'll be coming home tonight," Finn whispered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Rachel gnawed on her lip, everything about this seemed _wrong, _but maybe that's why she should do it. _Maybe_, she reasoned, leaning up on her tippy toes to kiss him fiercely, _it's a good idea to be a little wrong sometimes. _

_And I'm allowed to sleep with Finn, so there's that._

_

* * *

_

Opening night went off without a hitch. Finn was in the audience somewhere, but Rachel wasn't performing for him like she might have been two years ago. The boy she wanted to see her shine wouldn't be in the audience, he was busy in Italy with _his _boy, and as she took her final bow for the night, she let a tear trickle before going home and telling Finn it wasn't working, they were officially done-forever, and he had to leave.

* * *

The show was successful. Rachel Berry was finally a _star _on _Broadway _and her name was on the marquee. She got a silent smug grin on her face every time she saw it before ducking into the dressing room to prepare for that nights show, went on stage and performed her lines, played her part, sang her songs, and went home to repeat the same thing the next night.

A couple nights during the week her understudy would go on and she'd have the day off, where she would indulge in shopping and the general New York lifestyle.

The autumn weather was starting to get colder, and by the end of October, snow was starting to fall. Rachel tightened her coat before ducking out of the back entrance to the theater one night, hoping the subway wouldn't take too long to arrive with all the construction they had been doing on it.

"Rachel!" she heard behind her, her lips forming a smile before she even turned around, breathing out a "Blaine!" as she saw him running towards her, arms open wide to crush her in a hug.

* * *

They walked back to the apartment-_his apartment that I'm living in_-she thought briefly, their fingers entwined as he told her stories about Milan and traveling around Europe during Kurt's free days. She was a good friend, nodding and listening, smiling and laughing when she was supposed to. She had perfected that in the past couple years.

"So how long are you back for?" she asked, fiddling for the keys in her pocket as they arrived at the building.

He hesitated, and Rachel looked at him. Blaine was rarely ever hesitant or caught off guard. It was one of the things she admired about him. "Blaine?" she asked, and he just smiled again, back to normal.

"I'll explain upstairs," he said, holding the door open for her once she unlocked it.

* * *

Blaine managed to avoid telling her about it for a good half hour, distracting her only because he asked her what it was like to be on Broadway.

"It's fantastic," she babbled as he brought her tea, sitting on the couch. He listened as she went into the drama with her costar (he was head over heels in love with their director, who was straight), the costume disaster that made one of the understudies wind up in the hospital, the feeling of being on a stage and knowing an entire audience bought tickets to come see her _on a stage_.

"But, enough about me, you've been avoiding what I asked you earlier," she stated, taking a sip of her now mostly cold tea.

"Hm?" He asked, and she narrowed her eyes.

"What happened Blaine?" she asked, her hand automatically reaching for his knee to squeeze it gently, to let him know she was there. He froze and she jolted her hand back into her own lap, looking down at it in shame. She wasn't sure why that had seemed like too much, not when they were always so close, but she could tell from his body language when she glanced up that she had crossed a line.

"Look, it's late-"he started, and she nodded, agreeing only to escape to the guest room and spend her night wallowing in self-pity. _I'm so repulsive he doesn't even want me to touch him at all_, her thoughts gloomed through her head.

"Right, I have an early day of rehearsal tomorrow, I should get going to bed," she interrupted as she stood up quickly, grabbing both their mugs and bringing them into the kitchen. "Good night Blaine," she called out softly, though he was now sitting with his head in his hands and he didn't respond.

She quickly and quietly ran into her room, shutting the door soundlessly behind her before letting out the hopefully noiseless tears.

* * *

She snuck out early the next morning, not wanting to disturb Blaine as she left for work. She felt like she was doing the walk of shame, only far more ashamed.

Chris tried to comfort her when she got into work-he was, after all, in the complete opposite position of the same exact problem. They rarely had too much rehearsal to do as it was, they had nailed their characters-and performances-down almost immediately when they first got the parts. This meant they had a lot of time to talk and bond, which the director loved.

"So he just shut down completely?" Chris asked, looking forlornly over at their director who was in the middle of yelling at an understudy who had to go on in 6 hours.

"Yes. It was so strange," Rachel explained, "one minute he was fine and laughing and talking, and then I accidentally just grabbed his knee like so-" she demonstrated on Chris exactly as she had done on Blaine the night before and he nodded in response, "-and it was like I had jumped his bones or something."

"Maybe you should just jump his bones," Chris joked, and Rachel looked appalled.

"Even if he was straight-and he isn't, _'100% gay'_ were his exact words-he's still dating one of my closest friends."

"I was joking sweetie," Chris told her, petting her on the head.

She sighed. "I know," she replied, mostly for herself. "I just wish it was an option because then I could at least do _something_."

"You'll figure it out doll. Now, we have to get to dance rehearsal to make sure you don't step on my toes tonight," Chris smiled, lifting Rachel to her feet. Rachel followed eagerly, desperate to leave her drama and insecurities about Blaine far behind.


	2. Dazed and Confused

Rachel avoided going home that night. When Chris offered to take her out for drinks, she quickly accepted his offer.

"Just you and me girl," he chortled as they bundled up to fend off the cold October winds.

"I definitely am going to need some alcohol," she agreed, pushing the doors open to the city streets as they headed for their favorite after-show bar.

Within an hour, she was verging from tipsy to full out drunk. Chris had abandoned her to talk to some guy, leaving her to fend for herself at the bar. Fortunately, a very cute business man had come up and started chatting her up, and before she could spell 'mistake', they were riding in a taxi to his apartment.

The next day went almost the exact same way. After work, she and Chris headed to the bar-this time towing a couple other cast mates with them-and ended up flirting with a different guy.

"Rachel Berry's getting promiscuous," she drunkenly whispered in Chris's ear as she said goodbye, and he responded with a laugh.

"As long as Rachel Berry is safe and prepared to go on tomorrow night," Chris responded, giving her a wink as he saw the guy she was planning on leaving with.

"Have I ever been less than 110% prepared?" she asked, flitting away and grabbing the hand of whatever his name was, pulling him out the door and towards her apartment.

* * *

The only times Rachel ever woke up in the middle of the night were when she was drinking. That second night as she headed for the bathroom, head in her hands as she felt the hangover settle in, she barely noticed Blaine sitting in the living room, still awake and watching TV.

On her way back to her bed-and the boy that was in it-she heard a laugh track and stuck her head around the corner. "Blaine!" she called out in shock, wincing as her voice vibrated in her own head.

He glanced at her but didn't say anything. "What are you doing awake?" she whispered, more for her own sake than for whoever was sleeping in her bed.

"Couldn't sleep," he responded tonelessly, and she bit her lip, standing at the edge of the room.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and he looked at her a moment more. She couldn't tell what he was feeling, what was going on in his mind, and it worried her.

He clicked the TV off and stood up, brushing past her with a quick "Clearly not as good as you," before slamming his bedroom door shut, leaving Rachel even more confused and upset-and pained-than before.

* * *

She walked home by herself that night after work, hoping the crisp air would clear her mind. The show had been wonderful, as it was every night she performed, though her heart wasn't in it. It kept going back to the moment when Blaine essentially slammed the door in her face, playing the moment over and over again like a car crash you can't look away from.

She unlocked the door and headed for the fridge, hoping to get some water and take a hot bath.

"Rachel?" she heard from Blaine and Kurt's room, and she peeked into the hall, giving a small smile to let him know it was her. He was standing in the doorway, clearly in the process of getting out of the shower, his hair curling as he tried to dry it and a towel wrapped around his waist. She had to remind herself to stop staring and get back to what she was doing.

"Hi," she called out before deciding tea was _definitely _a better choice, especially now that she'd need to let some hot water build back up.

"Listen," he called, still in the other room-she assumed he was putting actual clothes on, but tried to keep her mind focused on the conversation. "I wanted to apologize," he said, his voice travelling closer to her.

She put a tea kettle on and grabbed a mug down, glancing at the doorway to see him standing there, a pair of worn pajama pants and an old tee-shirt clinging to his body like she wanted to be. _Pay attention to his words Rachel_, she reprimanded. _He said something. Respond_.

"Apologize for what?" she finally managed to sputter out, pretending to be highly engrossed in her tea options.

"For last night-and, for that matter, a couple nights ago," he told her, coming over and reaching over her head to grab a mug for himself.

"Oh, well, that's fine," she responded, very aware of how her _skin _seemed to be more electrified when he was just _near _her.

"No," he said, and his voice was so sure and Blaine-like again that she glanced up at him, only to be transfixed by his gaze. "I've been having a hard week, and I took it out on you. That was wrong with me. I'm deeply sorry for my actions Rachel." She nodded, licking her lips and not saying anything. They stared at each other for a few minutes before the tea pot whistled.

"It's fine, really, I'm okay," she said after turning off the stove, somehow managing to turn her eyes away from his. "Tea?" she offered, and he nodded. They each made a cup, standing next to each other quietly. She wanted to ask him what was going on, _why _he had snapped at her and freaked out and been completely unlike his normal self, but she didn't want to set off another fight. "Blaine?" she ventured after a moment, walking over to the kitchen table to sit, tucking her feet under her legs.

"Yeah?" he asked, leaning backwards against the counter.

"Are-are you doing okay?" she tried softly, chewing the inside of her mouth even though she knew it was bad for her, waiting for another burst of anger or flight.

"Of course," he answered, quickly-almost too quickly. She glanced at him wearily, not fully believing him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rachel, I'm just tired. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, I should get to bed. Good night," he said, leaving his full mug on the counter behind him as he walked out.

* * *

Rachel was determined to figure out what was going on now. She had the day off, her understudy going on to perform for the night. She decided to go to her favorite coffee house and relax, picking out a cozy corner booth for herself. She whipped out her phone and dialed Kurt's number without looking.

"Hello?" Kurt asked, sounding far more strained than he had in a while. They had talked infrequently since he left, mostly due to busy schedules and the massive time difference. But Rachel could tell something was taking a toll on him.

"What's going on with Blaine?" she asked bluntly, deciding to focus on one thing at a time.

"He didn't tell you yet?" Kurt asked, sounding more annoyed than anything now. She glanced at her watch-it was only noon in New York, which meant it was around 6 for Kurt.

"Didn't tell me what?" she asked cautiously.

"We broke up," Kurt said dryly, and Rachel's heart plummeted. _Poor Blaine,_ she thought, _poor Kurt_!

"I'm so sorry dear!" She told him, and she could practically feel Kurt's shrug through the phone. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Kurt chuckled darkly. "Ask him. I'll be fine though, don't worry. I actually have to go to dinner with some people from the office-I'll call you this weekend so we can catch up."

"Love you!" she told him, meaning it earnestly, and he replied with a quick "Ciao," before hanging up.

She sat there for a while, trying to figure out what this meant exactly. _He hasn't told me to get lost, so I'm assuming I can stay for a little while more at least_.

She knew however, that until she got answers she wouldn't be satisfied. So she picked up her coffee and bag and headed back to the apartment, hoping Blaine would still be there.

* * *

The apartment was empty, so she settled herself onto the couch and started reading a new book she had been meaning to get around to, glancing at the door every few minutes while she waited for Blaine to come back from wherever he was.

It was almost three hours later that he strutted in, seeming startled to see her sitting in the clean white living room. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice higher than normal.

"We need to talk," Rachel said shortly, closing her book and pointing towards a chair next to the couch.

"Okay?" Blaine agreed, looking apprehensive but listening and sitting down.

"I know you broke up with Kurt. Or Kurt broke up with you. I know you two aren't together anymore," she told him, and he just nodded.

"You talked to Kurt," he said aloud, more to himself than to Rachel.

"Yes. But he said I had to talk to you, and I need to know what's going on."

"It's not important right now Rachel," Blaine said darkly, standing up to leave the room.

"Sit down!" Rachel said firmly, and Blaine looked down at her. "Please?" She added as an afterthought, and eventually he sat back down. "I get it, you don't want to talk about it. But this affects me too Blaine. So you need to tell me what's going on. I should know the reason behind why you're being snippy to me, what's going on with you, what's going on with the apartment! You apologized for being a dick last night, and then you continued to be one. Just tell me what's going on," she pleaded, falling silent and waiting for his response.

It took a couple minutes, but finally he said "You're right," loud and clear.

She bit back the _I'm always right_ that was threatening to fall off her tongue as he cleared his throat, ready to finally talk. "Kurt was offered a permanent position. In Milan. I was all for the next few months, but I missed New York, I missed America. I was looking at jobs in the city for when we came back, and then he said he was going to take this job. And I love him, but I'm not ready to relocate my entire life for the next few years permanently for anyone. And I told him that. And he got mad, and we got into a fight, and the next thing I know he's stumbling home drunk with a guy I've never seen before. And that was that for me. I jumped on a plane, arrived a few hours before your show, and came to surprise you."

Silence fell once more after his confession, as Rachel let it sink in. Even with her crush on Blaine, she had still seen how wonderful Kurt and him were together. She had never expected either to hurt the other like this.

"I'm so sorry," she told him quietly, hesitantly offering a pat on the knee. He took her hand-the most he had touched her since the other nights freak out.

"I know," he told her, squeezing her hand gently. He took another deep breath, steadying himself. "As for the apartment- I talked to Kurt yesterday afternoon. Since he's staying in Italy, the apartment is going to change from his name to yours. So you and I will just-live here. Together. Is that cool?"

Rachel bit her lip, contemplating how wrong this could end up. "Yeah," she said out loud, even though her brain was screaming _no_, "that sounds great!" Blaine chuckled, standing up and pulling Rachel with him, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"Thanks for putting up with me these past couple days," he said, his voice low near her ear. He kissed her cheek and she fought the blush that was threatening to appear, showing off a small smile.

"No problem," she told him, backing away from him slowly. "Roomie," she joked, her laugh sounding forced to her but he laughed anyways, looking far more relaxed than he had in the past week or so.

_You can handle this Berry_, she thought to herself, walking to her room. _You can get over your crush a lot easier if you live with him. That's usually how it goes, right? Couples move in and break up. _

She dropped onto her bed, face first, and let her imagination go into overdrive at all the possible ways this could go horribly wrong.


	3. Gotta Figure This Out

Living with Rachel turned out to be more difficult than he thought. It wasn't that she was a bad roommate-in fact, by most matters, she was an excellent roommate. She was clean and courteous, always made him food if he was home and she was cooking, a great chef to top that, and they had the same taste in movies.

They spent most of their time on their own-Rachel was, after all, working nights at the theater while he was roughing it out in the business world of marketing and advertising. It was less than thrilling work, but it had its perks, and it was steady, and Blaine figured there were far worse things he could do.

But something had changed when they were together. He wasn't sure if it was Rachel's sudden awareness of boundaries-she had always been a touchy-feely kind of girl, and he was fine with that. Suddenly though, she rarely hugged him or held his hand or did any of the kind of things she had no qualms about doing while he was dating Kurt. And the more she was around him with as little physical contact as possible; the more it seemed to drive him mad.

"Are you mad at me?" he finally asked one morning while she was flitting around the kitchen before work.

She seemed shocked, turning to face him. "Of course not! Why would you think that?"

He felt slightly embarrassed. _You don't touch me as often as you used to _seemed like an awkward thing to say aloud to your roommate. "You've just been…distant, I guess." Blaine tried, but even that seemed wrong. They had hung out plenty, spending her nights off going to see other plays and musicals and ballets, lazing around Sunday afternoons watching horrible television. They stayed up some nights talking-sometimes about Kurt, sometimes about Rachel's life in general, sometimes about high school.

"I'm fine," she promised, though her reassurance didn't exactly feel reassuring. "I have to get going, I'm going to be late," she said, and before he could say goodbye she had her coat on and was out the door.

* * *

Things got weirder and weirder. Blaine couldn't explain what was wrong, because on the surface, everything was perfectly fine. They travelled back to Lima together for Thanksgiving, and Blaine hoped the few days apart would clear his brain.

The only problem was that he hadn't even begun to imagine running into Kurt. Which is what occurred the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

"Blaine?" he heard from a few tables away as he sipped his coffee, glancing over a proposal they were supposed to have a meeting on when he got back.

He glanced up, and there was Kurt. He wasn't surprised at the pang of hurt he felt seeing him, but he was surprised at how little anger was still left. "Kurt!" he greeted, offering the seat next to him. Kurt hesitated before sitting down, looking a little awkward. "Back in Lima visiting your dad and Carole?" Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded.

"Yes, got in a couple days ago."

"How's the job?" Blaine asked kindly. He wanted to have no hurt feelings-and really, besides a slight pain, he wasn't mad at Kurt. Not anymore. They were both doing what was best for them, and Blaine had taken the past month to come to terms with that.

"It's great," Kurt admitted, finally smiling. "I'm sad that it had to destroy our relationship, but it's everything I could have imagined and more." Blaine gave a small smile.

"Well, then I'm happy for you," he told him earnestly.

"How's living with Berry?" Kurt asked, and Blaine blushed.

"It's, um," he cleared his throat, trying to figure out a way to not sound completely crazy. "It's great! She's a good roommate," he managed to get out. Kurt raised an eyebrow, he always seemed to know when Blaine was being less than honest.

"Is she too in your face?" Kurt asked, a normal assumption for anyone whose known Rachel for more than five minutes.

"Actually, it's the opposite," Blaine admitted, feeling his cheeks flush. "She's around but she doesn't ever do the normal Rachel things, like I had ketchup on my face and instead of just wiping it off with a napkin like she normally does, she told me about it." Kurt raised an eyebrow, and Blaine thought about what he had just said. It sounded even stupider out loud than he had intended it to be.

"She's actually acknowledging personal space." Kurt grinned, like there was some big secret he was holding back.

"Yes." Blaine took a sip of his coffee. "It's weird that I'm freaking out about this, isn't it?" he asked, and Kurt just chuckled.

"I can't say I'm too surprised," he answered, and Blaine was happy that they could feel so comfortable, just talking like this once more. Kurt glanced at his phone. "Look, I have to go-Carole's throwing a big party tonight and I promised I'd help set up," Blaine nodded, half expecting to be invited. "Good luck with Rachel," Kurt said instead, heading out the door into the windy November air outside.

"Good luck?" Blaine mused, putting away his work as he got ready to head back to his own home. _Why would I ever need luck?_

* * *

He figured out why Kurt had been smirking and wished him luck only a week later.

"Blaine!" Rachel called out, startled as she bounded into the apartment, practically skipping. He paused the movie he was watching, glancing up only to see her hand in hand with some guy who seemed vaguely familiar.

"Hi?" He questioned, trying to ignore the sudden drop in his stomach, the hot flash of anger he felt that this guy was in his house on Rachel's arm.

"Oh," she giggled, glancing up at him, and he grinned down at her. "Heath and I are going out, don't worry, I just needed to switch coats."

"Apparently the one she's wearing now doesn't match her shoes," Heath chuckled, holding out a hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine took it, gripping harder than he meant too. "I'm Heath by the way."

Blaine forced a smile, trying not to glare as Rachel bounded out of the living room to change her coat. "Blaine," he offered, and they stood awkwardly in silence until she came back into the room, grabbing Heath's hand once more.

"Ready to go?" she asked, and he nodded. "Night Blaine!" she said, giving him a quick hug-and that stung almost more than anything, because Blaine had finally put the pieces together, added in everything that was happening. But before he could question anything, she was out the door, new boy in hand, and Blaine was left on his own to figure out how exactly he could have fallen for Rachel Berry without realizing it.


	4. Dice

"I'm a horrible person," Rachel declared, slumping onto Chris' chair in his dressing room. He barely looked up to acknowledge that she had even appeared, making a noise of agreement.

"Why now?' he questioned, fixing his makeup and staring at his own reflection.

"Because I am using someone to get back at someone I can't even have," she pouted, hands resting on her stomach. She was getting too anxious, holding all her emotions in, pretending to be into Heath and dragging him around the apartment whenever Blaine was there. "I don't even like Heath. He's obnoxious. The only reason I agreed to go out with him is because he's cute and polite and he's a part of the chorus so he can't upstage me. He's the opposite of Blaine. Blaine is charming and sweet, and he's funny and likes old movies and can sing with me. The only positive Heath currently has is that I can sleep with him, which is exactly why I went back to Finn, _again_, and this is turning into a horrible habit of mine," she vented.

"Didn't you say Blaine and you made out once?" Chris asked, swirling around to face Rachel. She felt the blush warm her cheeks; she had admitted that during one of their drunken escapades a few weeks ago.

"We were in high school. And he said he was 100% gay after I kissed him soberly. So there's definitely no doubt that he's gay," she explained, and he nodded in response. "I just can't handle keeping secrets in, I feel like I'm getting an ulcer," she whined.

"Look, normally I'd tell you to keep it in and suck it up and get over it. But you're Rachel Berry and you do horrible with keeping secrets. It's not exactly you're strong suit," Chris said, and Rachel glared at him. "But I think you might need to tell Blaine. And then you can move on."

She scoffed, standing up. "Let me just tell my gay roommate that I'm crazy in love with him, sure, that sounds like a terrific idea," she cried out, and he shrugged as she left his dressing room; off to sort through it herself once more.

* * *

"We should do something fun for New Year's Eve!" Heath declared, and Rachel winced, taking a large sip of her wine. She had invited him over for dinner, only because she knew Blaine would be home packing for his trip home the following morning.

"Like what?" she asked politely.

"Like, a party. You have a great apartment for a party-it's nice and roomy, and you could have everyone from the cast come," Heath suggested.

"What about Blaine?" Rachel asked, because throwing a party seemed like so much more work than just attending one.

"What about Blaine?" Blaine chuckled, walking into the kitchen.

"We were thinking about throwing a party," Heath said before Rachel could explain. She furrowed her brow in frustration.

"_We _were not thinking anything," Rachel corrected, though Heath appeared unfazed as he finished eating his food. "Heath had merely suggested I host a New Year's Eve party, since apparently we have a good apartment for it. But I didn't want to commit to anything without seeing what you thought about it," she told him, and Blaine nodded, leaning against the counter with his arms across his chest. Rachel once more fought the urge to walk over and run her hands through his natural hair, to curl into his broad chest, trying to focus on the conversation and remembering that her boyfriend was sitting four feet away.

"Well, I won't be home until that afternoon, but it sounds like it could be fun. Who would attend?" Blaine finally asked, jolting Rachel back to the kitchen from her increasingly graphic daydream.

"Oh, um, some of the cast and crew from the show, and if you have anyone you wanted to invite you could, obviously," Rachel rushed out, almost worried about who Blaine would want to invite.

"Sounds good. I'll let you know if there's anyone I invite," he told her, leaving her alone again with Heath.

"So the party's on?"

"The party is on."

* * *

Rachel spent the next week surprisingly busy. Blaine was back in Ohio for Christmas, but Rachel had already opted out of going back for Hanukkah. She skyped with her dad's every night she could, usually from her dressing room before she had to go on stage. The crowds were fuller than ever with tourists in to see the snow and celebrate Christmas in the city, and between work and planning for the party she managed to keep herself distracted.

She also managed to avoid Heath most of the time.

Christmas Eve he went up to visit his family and Rachel was left alone after work, with no show the next day she had a lot of time to kill. She bought herself a bottle of wine, knowing full well the dull ache in her heart that she was used to feeling by now would only become worse as the night wore on, and at least alcohol would make it seem a little better.

She lay on the floor, glass next to her, and stared at the Christmas tree Blaine had put up a couple weeks ago. He had wanted some sort of holiday cheer, and Rachel was so used to celebrating Christmas with the Hudson/Hummel's that it didn't bother her. She crawled over to the plug to light it up, taking sips of her wine every now and again as she stared at it.

She found her phone from where she had tried to hide it from herself, knowing full well that drunk texting was so passé. Regardless, she found herself typing out _merry christmas blaine 3, apartment doesn't feel the same without you anymore miss you_ and sending it before turning off her phone to ignore any response-if he even had one.

"It is time for bed," Rachel muttered to herself, not bothering to turn off the Christmas tree before depositing her glass in the sink. She headed towards her room before changing her mind and slipping into Blaine's. She hadn't been in there often since he moved back in, but she still knew what side he slept on, and where his clothes were. She slipped out of her heavy clothes and into one of his old tee-shirts from Dalton, sliding under the covers on his side and soaking him in.

"Good night Blaine," she whispered quietly as she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Rachel spent most of New Year's Eve cleaning and running around. She had Heath run out to grab alcohol and food while she got ready for the party, slipping into a short dress that was nowhere near weather appropriate but Rachel knew it showed off her legs.

"Rachel?" Heath called out while she was finishing the final touches on her make up, "People are here!"

"Okay!" she called back, glancing at the clock. Blaine was due back two hours ago but she hadn't seen him yet, her stomach doing a nervous flip. She had made sure his room was perfect once her hangover wore off Christmas day, though she had slipped his shirt into her closet.

She wandered out to the living room which had been properly decorated, TV playing one of the many countdown shows that was on, holiday music playing overhead. People were already mingling, eating snacks laid around the apartment. She greeted guests, circling the room, her eyes on the lookout for Blaine at all times.

"Hey beautiful," Heath whispered, coming up behind her and scaring her.

"Hi," she said tightly, squirming out of his arms as he tried to hold her against him. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and while she knew it was New Year's, she also knew Heath was not one to just have a drink or two.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice already slurring.

"We'll talk about it later," she said, turning to go back to her guests. She finally saw Blaine, standing in the kitchen doorway watching her and Heath and she tried to wave before Heath grabbed her arm, yanking her to face him again.

"What?" he hissed, and she glared, ripping her arm free from his grip.

"I said," she began, her voice low and firm, "that we will discuss it later. I am the host and I am not going to let you make a scene right now."

"Oh, make a scene huh?" he said, louder now and a few heads around them turned to see what was going on. "God forbid I try to tell my girlfriend she looks good, why would I ever do such a horrid thing?" His voice was getting louder and Rachel was getting angrier. "After all, it's not like I'm good for anything but flaunting in front of the guy you really want, huh Rach?"

"Stop," she hissed, and now she could feel everyone's eyes on her. She could feel _his _eyes on her. "Stop this right now."

"Oh, does he not know? That's such a shame since everyone else does," Heath taunted, and she was positive her face was turning a bright red.

"Okay, scene over," Chris called out, stomping over and cutting through the crowd. "It's time for someone to get a taxi ride home," he said, pulling Heath away from Rachel.

"I'm done with it Rachel, I'm done being your trophy," Heath called out, Chris pulling him faster out the door. She stood there, the crowd starting to chat once more, wary looks towards her every so often while she remembered how to breathe.

"Hey," Rachel heard a quiet voice behind her, and she knew without looking that it was Blaine. She pasted a smile on her face and whirled around, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Hi! How was Ohio? I missed you!" she squealed, and even though she was glad to have him back now was not her best moment.

He gave her a bemused smile, holding her wrists lightly. "Are you okay? What was that about?"

She felt her smile fade but still tried to keep it on. "I'm fine; we've just been fighting all week. It's for the best, don't worry about me," she replied, trying to keep her voice positive. She wasn't hurt that Heath was gone; it was what she was waiting for since they started dating. Her pride, however, had taken a deep blow with the yelling, and she wasn't fond of that.

"You sure?" he asked once more, squeezing her wrist a bit in a comforting way. She just smiled and nodded.

"I should get back to the party," she said after a moment, and he nodded, squeezing her once more before letting her go.

"Yeah, I shouldn't hog the hostess all night," he grinned and she giggled before going to find Chris and thank him, once more, for being a far better friend than she could ever be.

* * *

She hadn't intended on getting drunk. Actually, she hadn't planned on drinking _period_ but Blaine had come over with a drink awhile after the Heath incident, telling her it would calm her down, and it wasn't like she could refuse it. And then Chris came over with another drink, and the three of them stayed in a corner laughing and giggling and sneaking drinks like they were 15 at a family event.

"So," Chris giggled, alcohol made him nothing if not hyper, "I hear you two kissed once." Rachel opened her eyes wide in shock, and Blaine chuckled softly, his hand resting on her knee.

"She told you about that?" Blaine asked, grinning at Rachel. She gave a small shrug and took Chris's cup from him, draining the rest of its contents.

"Well, she was drunk when it happened, and we were comparing experiences."

Blaine laughed loudly now, his head tilted back and Rachel felt her stomach do a flip as his neck was exposed, _so pretty _was her only semi-coherent thought. "That was like, 8 years ago. I have to say Berry, it was a pretty good kiss," he joked, knocking his knee into hers and causing her to giggle.

"Well, considering that I was, what, 16? And drunk? I'll take that as a compliment."

"So making out with people while drunk has been a habit of yours since high school then?" Chris joked, and the three laughed.

"Only if you include making her make out partner her duet partner shortly after," Blaine interjected, and Chris snorted.

"I don't know why I'm even half surprised at that statement." Chris glanced at his watch, sighing dramatically. "Did you invite lots of gay boys for me Rachel?" he asked, and now it was her turn to snort.

"No, we're on Broadway, all I know are straight men," she retorted and he shrugged, standing up.

"Time to find someone to kiss in two minutes!" he stage whispered, and Rachel waved him off, leaning onto Blaine slightly.

"Are you going to leave me to go find someone to kiss at midnight too?" she asked quietly, playing with the hem of her dress.

"Nah, I don't think I can stand up right now," Blaine tried to joke, but for some reason it sounded strangled.

She looked up at him but he was staring into the sea of people who didn't even seem to notice that their hostess was I a corner of the room, either too inebriated or too unobservant. "You're not going to find someone to kiss?" Blaine asked quietly, one of his hands rubbing her knee gently, the other resting in her hair, his arm wrapped around her.

"No," she answered even quieter. "I think it's time I gave up on guys for a while."

"Nah," Blaine replied, though Rachel wasn't 100% sure she wasn't imagining it. He kissed the side of her head, softly, and she hummed quietly in contention. The music overhead seemed to be getting louder, the TV now counting down from 30 seconds.

"It's almost a new year," Blaine whispered, his voice next to her ear.

"It's about time," she mumbled, moving her head to glance up.

_Oh_, she thought, her face inches from his. His eyes seemed to bore into hers, and just as quickly as everything seemed to get louder, the chanting of the countdown seemed to become quieter and quieter until she barely heard the screams of everyone's "Happy New Year" and Blaine's lips were upon her own.

_Happy New Year indeed_.


	5. My Favorite Mistake

Blaine had no idea what propelled him to do it. He could partially blame the alcohol-part of the reason he didn't like drinking around Rachel Berry was his lack of reason and consequence-but he knew it was more than that.

It was that it was midnight, on New Year's, and her boyfriend-_ex boyfriend_-had abandoned her because he was a dick. It was that he hadn't gotten Rachel Berry off his mind in the past two months, no matter what he tried. Even when he went back home for Christmas-meeting up with Kurt and sleeping with him didn't seem to take his mind away from the only girl to ever really, truly capture his attention.

He was gay, but he was definitely Rachel-sexual.

Having her curled up against him for the better part of an hour wasn't doing much to convince him _not _to touch her, kiss her, love her. Her hair was in his face, and it smelled delicious, and he just wanted to wrap his hands in it and tug, gently but enough to hear her reaction. Chris had left them and she was practically _on top _of him, and why shouldn't she be? He was her gay roommate. He wasn't a threat, he wouldn't take advantage of her.

But he wanted to now. He wanted to dull the ache he'd been feeling for her for too long, no matter the consequences.

"Blaine?" she asked, her eyes widening after they broke a part, the room still loud with cheers from the countdown. Her eyes were darker than normal, and he grinned to himself that he had any kind of effect on her at all. "What are you doing?" she continued, her voice quiet.

"I was kissing you, but now we're talking about it for some reason," he grinned, hoping to kiss her again. He moved forward but she moved away, a quiet "No," was all he heard before she stood up and stumbled away, into the sea of people.

Blaine hung his head, suddenly wishing he hadn't agreed to this party in the first place.

* * *

The last people stumbled out at about 2am, and Blaine was locked in his room like a 12 year old, trying to sober up. He had taken a shower to at least get the stench of alcohol and rejection off shortly after Rachel walked away, collapsing on his bed to wait out everyone's exit.

"Be safe!" he heard Rachel's voice call out, worried as she was undoubtedly shoving stragglers out the door. He should have gotten up, gone to help her clean, talked about the kiss, his feelings, anything, and instead all he could do was turn the light off and try and fall asleep.

* * *

His plan for sleep had only lasted about an hour before he was awoken by a loud crash.

"Shit!" he heard Rachel's high pitched squeal, and he rushed to the living room to make sure she was okay.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, looking around to see what happened. She was collapsed in the middle of the floor, head in her hands and breathing heavy. Blaine found the object that must have made the noise, the table that had been set up to lay out appetizers was collapsed on it's side, she had undoubtably tried to fold it back up to put it away. He picked it up and moved it to the corner of the living room, out of the way, before coming and sitting in front of her. "Rachel?" he asked quietly, gently touching her shoulder. He realized with surprise that she was shaking, not much, but enough that he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. "Rachel?" he asked once more, his voice now laced with concern.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, and he heard her tears in her voice. He took a small breath, his heart breaking even more as he moved to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, only to have her wretch herself away.

"I'm sorry," he told her, but she just stood up, collecting herself.

"I'm fine," she said again, more steady this time. "I'll finish cleaning in the morning," she stated, her voice flat. "Good night Blaine," she said before heading down the hall to her bedroom, closing the door quietly but firmly.

It was Blaine's turn to feel like crying in the middle of the floor now, but he composed himself well enough to climb back into bed and sleep away his pain.

* * *

Rachel had managed to clean and leave the apartment by the time he rolled out of bed the next morning, his breakfast much quieter than normal without her gabbing away. "Life without Rachel Berry," he muttered to himself, chuckling darkly. He was beginning to think there was never a time where she wasn't around in some aspect. He stirred the cereal still in his bowl, musing over how his first love brought him to his second love, each one more confusing than the last.

But as confusing and heart breaking as life with Rachel was, Blaine knew he couldn't handle a life without her. Which is why he knew he couldn't tell her. He would dismiss the kiss off as a drunken mistake, apologize for making her evening even worse, and buy her the charm bracelet he had seen her lusting after when they were shopping a few weeks prior.

"It's the only way," he convinced himself out loud. "It's the only way she won't hate me and leave."

* * *

"You were great out there," Blaine complimented when he met her backstage later that night. He had decided to run out and grab the bracelet and practice his speech all day, his normal demeanor of _cool, calm, collected_ back in place. She smiled at him, though it wasn't as wide as normal.

"Thank you," she replied, her eyes not as bright as normal.

"I, uh, got you something," Blaine said quickly as they walked to her dressing room. A few people said 'hi!' as they passed, or told Rachel how great she was, but no one seemed to notice Blaine's presence.

"You got me something?" Rachel questioned, looking up at him as they reached her dressing room. "Why would you do that?"

"Because," he began, taking a deep breath. it was time for his speech. "Last nights actions were irresponsible. I was rude and drunk and it doesn't excuse my behavior, but I'm sorry. You were having a tough night as it was, after Heath's scene. And I should have been there for you, as a friend." He walked over to her, taking a hand and speaking with as much sincerity as he could muster. "I was a jackass. And I can't begin to explain how sorry I am for what I did. I regret my actions, and, as an apology, I bought you this," he finished, pulling out the box the bracelet was in.

Rachel was quiet as he handed it to her, her eyes opening slightly when she opened the box. "Thank you," she whispered quietly, and for some reason it looked like she was going to cry again. _But I apologized! _he thought, trying to figure out just how much he had to do to prove he was sorry for kissing her. "But I can't accept this," she bit her lip, handing it back to him. He could see the tear in her eyes, but he was still taken aback.

"Why?" he asked bluntly.

"Blaine, I think it's best if we're just not around each other for awhile," she told him, her voice low as her eyes focused on the floor.

"That's going to be difficult since we live together," he snapped without meaning to. Really, at this point she was just being over dramatic. He wasn't _that _bad of a kisser, even when drunk.

"Well, I kind of need to talk to you about that."

"No," he said, his voice sharp. _She is not moving out, she can not move out_ ran through his mind.

"I've been thinking about it for awhile-this was only supposed to be temporary-"

"I'm _sorry_ Rachel!"

"-and I think it's time I live on my own anyways-" she went on, ignoring him completely. "I think it's just better for everyone. I found a place today. I can move in this weekend."

He stood there, speechless, unaware of how to fix this. Completely aghast at how wrong everything seemed to have turned. "Rachel-"

"I signed the lease today, so it's a done deal," she whispered, her face turning to look at the wall instead of him.

"Please don't do this," he whispered, pleaded really. He was going to turn into a beggar for her, and he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"It's done, Blaine," she said again, her eyes now finding his. He nodded, trying to keep himself calm.

"Fine," was all he managed to say, and he thought he saw a tear fall as he turned out the door, running out of the building, back to the apartment that was now far too big for just him, far too empty for him to sit in alone.

_All alone_.


	6. Letter Read

Rachel spent the next few days packing up her belongings, quietly moving about the apartment. Blaine was doing his part to avoid her-she hadn't seem him once since he walked out of her dressing room. But that was better, it was what she had asked for. She had come to the conclusion after their kiss that she needed to move on, that an innocent drinking mistake shouldn't send her reeling over an edge. She knew it was silly of her to panic and walk away instead of relishing in the fact that even momentarily Blaine had wanted _her_. But the pain that he only wanted her because he was drunk, because she was upset, it would have been so much worse the morning after if she had let it continue. So she was doing what was best for her-walking away, at least for the time being, until she was positive she could be around him without repressing urges to kiss him or crumple into a ball and cry.

That was why she found a new apartment.

She hadn't planned on staying in the apartment with Blaine for that long anyways. It was never a part of her One Year Plan. And January was the start of a new year, new things. There was really no better time for her to move out and really live in New York on her own.

_I'll see Blaine again_, she promised herself as she packed up her belongings from the living room, watching him walk by her without a word. _Just not right now_.

* * *

Saturday night she was almost completely moved out. Most of her clothes and belongings were in her new apartment, but the moving company wasn't taking her bed or dresser or any of the other big things until the following morning. She sat in her nearly empty room, save for a few boxes half open and full of clothes from her dresser. She was weeding through things and throwing them out if she didn't wear them-it was a relatively small apartment, and she didn't want to bring more than was necessary.

It was nearly midnight when she got to the bottom drawer where all her tee-shirts were. Throwing away some she had gotten from free events and keeping some of the McKinley one's she had since high school, she came across Blaine's Dalton gym shirt she had stolen on Christmas. It almost felt like she was punched in the stomach as she took it out, holding it. It had only been two weeks since she drunkly threw it on, comforted by the fact that it smelled like Blaine from all his years of owning it. Steeling herself against the wave of saddness that came over her, she quickly stood up and grabbed a half filled notebook full of doodles and song lyrics she kept around, rummaging through her purse until she found a pen.

The words came easily enough, though her handwriting went from somewhat legible to almost completely so as she filled the page. She scratched and scribbled out words, but poured her heart out, knowing that these were things she could never say to his face. Neither one of them would be able to handle that.

She took a deep breathe when she was done, wiping away tears she hadn't noticed before. She looked at the page, rereading what she had written.

_Blaine,  
I'm sorry for the way everything happened. I never wanted us to end up so fractured, so broken down that it seems like there's no way for us to be put back together. I hope that one day we can fix this, our relationship, and continue on being friends. Because over the years you have proven to be one of the best friends anyone could ever hope for.  
__Remember that time in college when you were visiting, and you told me not to get back together with Finn again? You told me how much better I was than that, and how I was only falling for him again because he was being nice. How I have some latch onto any guy that's kind to me. And I think that's what happened with us. You've been an amazing person in my life, a support I never dreamed I would have. You helped when my relationship with Finn ended even after you told me not to go back to him, you listened to me cry when Jesse came in and out of my life. And in the end I believe you were trying to make me feel better after what Heath did.  
But I was myself and I fell for the boy who was there through everything with me. Even when you were with Kurt and I could feel the crush start, I tried to tell myself how illogical it was. After all, I was already the girl you had tried to experiment with in the past-granted, we were in high school-and helped you figure out that you were gay. You were dating one of my other best friends. Nothing good could come out of having anything more than platonic feelings for you. And yet I continued to fall, harder and quicker, as time went on. When you moved back and we decided to live together, I was hoping it would help me move on, seeing you all the time. Instead you were just as charming and around so much more, and my feelings of a slight inappropriate crush soon turned to feelings of love.  
That is why I have to leave Blaine. I can't be around you when I love you like this, knowing you'll never love me in return. I hope that soon, in the future-whether you read this or not-that we can be friends once more. Romantic feelings aside.  
__Love,  
__Rachel_

She folded the letter up and before she could change her mind slipped it into his Dalton shirt, folding it carefully. In her normal overly dramatic fashion, she waited by her door until she heard him leave his room, swiftly running in to put his shirt back in the drawer where it had been when she stole it. She slipped it into the bottom, listening for the footsteps that meant her whole plan was shot, but managed to sneak back into her room before he came back to his.

She slid down her door, leaning against it and trying not to sob as loudly as she felt like doing. She let out everything she could, until eventually she was laying down in front of her door, the tears slowing down. Her last night in her first New York apartment, and she fell asleep on the ground.


	7. Everything Is Ending

The winter was long, but eventually signs of spring started to pop up. It was harder to tell in New York than it would have been in Lima, but the occasional tree was starting to bud, the snow was melting from the parks, and Rachel's new neighbors were often found on the roof planting a garden.

It took time to get used to living on her own, in Brooklyn of all places. It was different than living with Blaine, even different from living alone in what had once been Kurt's apartment as well as Blaine's. It was a place entirely her own. She enjoyed it, yet often felt lonely. She regretted giving Blaine back his shirt almost immediately, but knew that this would help her more in the long run to get over him.

Spring soon faded into a hot summer, and Rachel was faced once more with the process of auditioning for new musicals. The show she had been in for almost a year was coming to a close soon and with a resume like hers she was sure it wouldn't be hard to find a new starring role. Fortunately for her, she was correct.

Her new rehearsals filled her mornings while her nights were filled with the final month of the show. Chris was off with his new boyfriend, trying to keep his summer romance alive as August drew near. Rachel was focused purely on her career, ignoring date offers and often rejecting party invitations. She had grown to become more and more singular as her time away from Blaine expanded.

Her plan to move out and move on was failing miserably. It was as if every day something new would remind her of him, someone would have the same curly hair, or the same laugh, or sing a song they had once sung together in a drunken state. She often fought the urge to call him herself, just to hear his voice. She half hoped every time she answered the phone or her door that he would be there, which was silly since she hadn't given him her new address in a way to keep him out of her life. And yet she couldn't stop herself from wishing he was there when she opened the door, only to find Chris or a neighbor or, one time, even Kurt.

_One day_, she would think to herself as she lay on her bed, looking out her window at the city outside. _One day I'll move on and we can talk again_.

She only wished that day would come closer.

* * *

"You nervous?" Chris asked, rubbing Rachel's shoulders as she finished fixing herself up. It was the finale-the night had been sold out since April. "It's a full house out there. Hasn't been this packed since we opened," he grinned, clearly ecstatic.

"Of course not, I'm a professional," she smirked, though her stomach was feeling a little-well, _floopy_. It was almost as if she _knew _there was something different tonight even when there wasn't.

"It's all over baby, we're moving on to bigger and better things now," Chris joked, poking her softly. Chris had managed to score a gig in the same musical Rachel was moving to. It wasn't often that two stars got to work multiple shows together, but apparently the director had come to see them multiple times before they even auditioned, impressed by their on stage chemistry.

"Bigger and better," Rachel grinned back. She was excited about moving on-how long could she be expected to hold down the same part? Her voice needed a new _challenge_, and she wasn't going to get that from singing the same songs every night for the rest of her life.

"Rachel! Chris!" their director barged into her dressing room, causing the two to twirl around to face him. "We're on in five, we need you backstage. Go out with a bang," he winked, and Chris fake fainted as soon as he closed the door.

"Still holding out hope?" Rachel asked as they made their way down the hall to the back of the stage.

"Never underestimate the power of a lot of alcohol and an awesome cast party," he whispered, and she stifled a giggle.

"Break a leg," she told him, and he nodded with a smile. It was stupid to still say the same thing after a year, but it was almost a tradition for them now.

Rachel took a deep breath as she found her position as the music started to play outside the curtains. _This_ was easy for her. If nothing else in life was, she always knew her lines and her songs, and that was all she needed.

* * *

By the time the end of the show neared, Rachel was starting to get teary. She might have had Chris coming with her, but the rest of the cast was mostly dispersing to other shows if they had even managed to find anything-a few were headed for small spots on TV, but that wasn't Rachel's goal. She hadn't yet _conquered_ Broadway, and that was her first task in her life as a star.

When it came for her emotional scene with Chris, she almost laughed at how weird it was that both their tears were _real_, for the first time in a long time, and when they came out for their final bows, there was no holding back the tears and laughter that erupted out of her. Everyone was emotional, hugging as they left the stage, Chris holding Rachel's hand and practically pulling her so that she could get to her dressing room to change faster. "The faster we get to the cast party," he was explaining as they rushed through their coworkers, "The faster I can get him really drunk and into bed."

"What about Ryan?" she asked, referencing his current boyfriend.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," he confided, and Rachel fought back an eye roll.

"Of course," she muttered, opening her door, stopping almost immediately in her tracks and causing Chris to stumble into her.

"What the," he started to groan before looking up. A quiet "Oh," was all he could seem to muster after that, while Rachel stood there speechless.

"Hi," Blaine offered, almost awkwardly. Rachel continued to stand there in silence, not sure of what to do or say.

"I'm just-I'm gonna go. Yeah. I think that's best," Chris said, his voice much louder than necessary. He walked out of the room, and Rachel was faintly aware of the door closing but nothing else seemed to be in focus besides Blaine. _He's here_. Her brain seemed to short circuit as she that thought swirled around her head, over and over.

"Hi," Blaine said again, his voice quieter as he took a step towards her. She tried to smile though it felt like a grimace on her face. She offered a quiet hello of her own, not sure what to say.

"What-" she started, clearing her throat. _Well this isn't awkward at all_. "What are you doing here?" she finally managed to ask in a tougher voice, trying to sound more in control of herself.

Blaine laughed, though it sounded almost uncomfortable. "Well, actually, I feel really stupid." She raised an eyebrow but didn't speak, waiting for him to elaborate. "I tried calling you after you moved out," he offered, and she nodded. She had ignored his calls until he just stopped making them. "I guess I wanted a real reason for why you were leaving, and no one seemed to be able to give me one."

"No one?" she questioned, and he nodded.

"I saw Finn and Kurt when I was back in Ohio a few months ago. I ran into them and explained what happened, because if anyone knew what you were up to it would have been them. And they just told me I was being completely oblivious." He laughed again, mostly to himself. "Actually, Finn said I was being 'really fucking retarded' if I couldn't figure it out. Kurt was kinder." Rachel grinned despite herself. Finn would be the one to know exactly what Rachel's motives were.

"I see," was all she said instead.

"You were great out there tonight," he offered after a momentary pause. She tilted her head, still unsure of what was going on in Blaine's mind.

"Thanks," she replied.

"I've been to a few more of your shows. I was going to come visit you backstage, but I didn't know what to say."

She nodded and they fell back into a silence. It was comfortably-uncomfortable. Just enough to make her squirm without wanting to fall into a hole and die. "Is there something you really needed Blaine?" she finally asked when he seemed to be out of words.

He looked at her, his eyes locked on hers, and took a step forward. "Yes, actually there is." She bit her lip, the floopy feeling in her stomach back. "You see, I've been wondering for almost nine months why you cut me out, and why you've avoided me at all costs. And then today, I went to put on an old Dalton shirt to go for a run." Rachel felt herself whiten, the color visibly leaving her skin. _Oh no_, she thought, over and over.

"Oh," she said quietly, trying to remember to breathe.

"And this piece of paper fell out," Blaine continued, taking another step closer to her. "And it was weird, because the paper _smelt _like you, all floral and wonderful." She looked up at him, he was right in front of her now. "And I read this letter about how a gorgeous woman felt like she wasn't good enough for me, and felt absolutely stupid."

"What?" she asked, her eyes widening. She didn't want to think about all the different ways his words could mean, needing to know their _true _intentions before letting herself hope they meant what she wanted them to mean.

"When I kissed you on New Year's, it was because I wanted to," he whispered. "It wasn't because of Heath or the alcohol-though those might have pushed me to actually do it. It was because I had wanted to for a while, because I had fallen just as much in love with you as you apparently had with me. And I only apologized because I thought that's what you wanted."

"You love me?" was all Rachel could manage, the thought practically screaming at her inside her own head. _Blaine just said he loves me. Me. Rachel Berry. _

He laughed again while nodding. "You are quite a force Rachel Berry," he chuckled. "How can anyone _not _love you?" He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with one hand, the other grabbing one of her own. "The question now is, do you still love me?"

"How is that even a question Blaine Anderson?' she scolded, and he grinned.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say," he responded before quieting her lips with his own. She kissed him back eagerly, her last coherent thought a quick _guess I can't help you seduce our director Chris_ before Blaine completely took over her mind.

"I love you Rachel," he breathed when they had broken apart.

She smirked and leaned up to kiss him again. "That's what I was hoping you'd say," she retorted before losing herself once more in his mouth.


End file.
